


Clarke Griffin and the Date Disaster

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Disaster Clarke Griffin, COVID, Clexa Week 2021, Comical Angst, F/F, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Out of bounds, Reconciliation, Useless Lesbian Lexa (The 100)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Clarke runs into her dentist, Lexa, at the grocery store, and somehow the topic of Harry Potter comes up.  Clarke admits she's never seen the movies (or read the books) and Lexa decides they need to fix that.  After months of isolation, Clarke is willing to take the chance on expanding her pandemic bubble and invites her over for a date... except she doesn't realize it's a date, because a dentist can't date her patient... right?For Clexa Week 2021 - Day 5 - Out of BoundsYou can see the associated moodboardhere.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 93
Kudos: 342
Collections: Clexaweek2021





	Clarke Griffin and the Date Disaster

Clarke checked her list one final time before getting in line, not wanting to miss anything she needed and have to come back. The grocery store hadn't been her favorite place pre-pandemic, and now that it felt like she was walking into a ticking time bomb of germs any time she entered a building she didn't personally control, she was even less inclined to make additional trips. Satisfied she'd checked off all the essentials (and quite a few things she didn't strictly need, and she blamed the arrows that forced her to go down aisles she might otherwise have avoided just to go up the ones she did have to visit, and who was she to pass up a buy one, get one free on potato chips?), she got into line for the self-checkout. 

"Clarke?" 

She whipped around at the sound of her name, her heart slamming into her sternum as fight-or-flight kicked in for no good reason other than that COVID had gotten her used to not interacting face-to-face with anyone, ever, if she could avoid it. 

The face of the woman (more than six feet, thank god) behind her was familiar, but Clarke found herself scrambling to put a name to it. The fact that she could only see the upper half of her face didn't help, though it was her eyes that Clarke was sure she'd seen – and tried not to fall into – before. 

"Lexa," the woman said, then rolled her eyes. "Dr. Woods."

"Oh!" Clarke let out a nervous huff of laughter. "Right. Sorry. It's just..." She gestured to her face and the mask – a bright pattern of tubes of squeezed out paint – and shrugged. 

Lexa smiled. At least Clarke thought she did. The corners of her eyes crinkled, anyway. "Trust me, I get it. At least it's _only_ this," she pointed to her own mask, one of those slightly silly-looking white ones that made Clarke think of ducks, but that were supposed to be almost as good as the medical grade ones. "At work it's an N95 with a surgical mask over it, and safety glasses and a face shield on top of that." She rolled her eyes again. "Better safe than sorry, obviously, but let me tell you, when I finally get to take it all off I feel like Dobby being given a sock. 'I'm free! Lexa is a free elf!'"

Clarke laughed, and Lexa did too. The attendant motioned them toward the self-checkout machines that had just opened up side-by-side, and they rolled their carts over. Clarke grimaced as she looked into her basket and realized how much junk she'd bought, and tried to scan it as quickly as possible and get it bagged and out of sight before Lexa could see and judge – or worse, lecture – her about it. 

"I'm assuming that's a Harry Potter reference," Clarke said, trying to distract her as she scanned a second, then third pint of Ben & Jerry's. (It was on _sale_ , okay? And they had flavors she hadn't seen in _months_ in stock!) 

Lexa paused in the middle of scanning a plastic tub of salad (of course) and looked at her. "You assume?"

"...Yeah? I've never actually, uh, seen the movies." Clarke grimaced, knowing what would inevitably come next. 

Lexa didn't disappoint. She let out a squawk of indignation. "Okay, but you've read the books," she said. 

"Well... no," Clarke admitted. 

"What?!" Lexa just stared at her until the attendant cleared her throat, subtly suggesting that they both keep things moving, because there was a line and no one wanted to be here breathing the same air for longer than they had to be. "This conversation is not over," she said, grabbing a bag of carrots from her cart.

Clarke quickly finished scanning her groceries and held her phone up to the reader, waiting for the chime and grabbing her receipt as it unspooled from the machine. She tucked it into one of her bags and hefted them into her cart, heading for the exit quickly, but with a glance over her shoulder to make sure Lexa was behind her. 

Once outside, they moved themselves out of the way of anyone trying to enter or exit the store. "I just noticed the time," Lexa said, "and I have to go, but... could I get your number?"

"Sure," Clarke said. "Of course." She rattled it off, and Lexa quickly typed it into her phone. 

"Thanks," Lexa said. She hesitated, then added, "It was nice running into you."

"Yeah," Clarke said. "You too." She smiled, even though Lexa couldn't see it, and waved as they parted ways to go to their cars. It didn't occur to her until she'd loaded the bags into the back and slid into the driver's seat to wonder why Lexa needed her number. Surely it was in her file at the office... but maybe they were making sure everything was up-to-date in case they needed it for contact tracing or something, and Lexa had seen the opportunity and seized it? 

She shrugged it off and put her car into gear, pulling out of the parking space and heading toward home before her ice cream melted.

It was only later, after Clarke had settled into the now well-worn groove in her sofa, wrapped in a blanket and wrapped around a bowl of Half Baked, that she discovered Lexa hadn't been asking for her number for her dental records at all.

 **Unknown Number:** How can you have never seen or read Harry Potter?!  
**Unknown Number:** Your last name is Griffin!

Clarke snorted and quickly saved Lexa to her contacts. 

**Clarke:** I know.  
**Clarke:** Trust me, I've been told by many people on many occasions that I would definitely be a Gryffindor.

She waited a second for a response, but when one wasn't immediately forthcoming, she kept typing.

 **Clarke:** That's part of why I've avoided it, honestly.  
**Clarke:** When EVERYONE tells you you HAVE TO do/read/watch something...  
**Clarke:** 🤷🏼♀  
**Clarke:** Anyway, don't we hate J.K. Rowling now?

 **Lexa:** TOTAL Gryffindor. 😂  
**Lexa:** Yeah... 😞  
**Lexa:** She's complete and utter garbage and I won't give her any more of my money... but you can get the books from the library. Probably the movies, too.

Except libraries weren't open, or were only open for curbside pick-up, and who knew how long the waiting list for some of the most popular books and movies on the planet would be. Although... were they still that popular? The whole thing had ended... what? Ten years ago? More? Still, they remained one of the biggest cultural references of her generation, and sometimes Clarke wondered if she really was missing out... but then her stubborn streak kicked back in, and here they were.

 **Lexa:** Or we could grab some food and I'll watch them with you.

Clarke stared at her phone, not sure what to say. Was Lexa... asking her out? Or not out, but as out as one got in the middle of a pandemic. Dinner and a movie – or two, or eight – in the safety of your own home...

She jumped when her phone chimed again. 

**Lexa:** If you want.

Clarke was surprised to discover several minutes had passed between the two messages while she'd stared in stunned silence. Because it really seemed like Lexa was asking her out. In. Whatever. 

But Lexa was her dentist, and Clarke was pretty sure dentists weren't allowed to date their patients. It had to be some kind of ethical violation... didn't it? There had been a few times when she'd gone in for a check-up when she'd thought Lexa was being a little flirty, but she'd always brushed it off, assuming she was reading too much into simple friendliness because her heart beat a little faster every time Lexa got close, and not because Clarke feared she would find a cavity. (Which she never had, thank you very much.) 

Which was probably what she was doing now. Lexa – even though she dealt with coworkers and patients every day – was probably just as starved for social contact as she was after months in near-complete isolation. They were close in age, and Clarke knew from past conversations that they had other hobbies and interests in common, so it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that Lexa might be interested in her as a friend.

And if Clarke _was_ going to break her isolation and let someone into her bubble, choosing a person who was required to wear full PPE all day, every day wasn't the worst option. It was probably about as safe as it could get. And it wasn't as if Lexa was dealing with COVID patients. Not like Clarke's mom, who she hadn't seen since January, because Abby had seen the writing on the wall before the powers that be chose to acknowledge it and had started isolating herself long before anyone told her she had to. 

What would her mom say? 'No, Clarke. Absolutely not. You need to stay safe.' Probably. Except she also knew that Clarke had to stay _sane_ , and six months and counting with no human contact whatsoever took its toll.

Octavia would tell her to go for it, but Octavia tended toward recklessness, and anyway she lived with her boyfriend and probably couldn't imagine going six days, much less six _months_ without sex. 

Not that this was about sex. It definitely wasn't about sex. Hanging out and watching movies with a patient might be a gray area, but having sex had to be completely off the table. 

_Unless it's on the table,_ Raven snickered in her head. Because if she asked Raven what she should do, Raven would want to know if Lexa was hot. If – when – Clarke answered in the affirmative, Raven would almost certainly suggest they Netflix and Chill and get it out of their systems, then go about their lives as if it had never happened. Because after giving too much of herself to a boy who didn't deserve it when she was too young to know better, Raven Reyes had decided that 'fuck 'em and forget 'em' was the best way to handle relationships. 

And Clarke wasn't one to judge – okay, maybe a little – but she also knew she wasn't wired that way. Not her head, not her heart. She fell hard and fast and—

And Lexa was her _dentist_ and it wasn't about sex and—

And it had been half an hour since Lexa's message and it was guilt at leaving her hanging more than anything that made Clarke type out a response and hit send before she could reconsider.

 **Clarke:** Sounds good. I'm free... pretty much whenever. 😆

Lexa's response was almost immediate, like she'd been sitting there waiting the whole time, and another pang of guilt stabbed through Clarke.

 **Lexa:** Friday? 

**Clarke:** Friday works. What time?

 **Lexa:** Six? 

**Clarke:** Okay. What kind of food do you want to order? I'll pay, since you're providing the movies.

They went back and forth, discussing the merits of various options before settling on Clarke's favorite Chinese place. Clarke sent Lexa the link to the menu and told her to text her what she wanted on Friday so she could order in time for the food to arrive when Lexa did. That way they wouldn't have to interrupt the movie to answer the door. 

When Lexa finally bid Clarke good night, Clarke knew she ought to go to bed, but she also knew she would never sleep. Her entire body felt electric, humming with a feeling she had all but forgotten in the mind-numbing, heart-deadening slog of the past months: excitement. For the first time in far too long, she had something to look forward to, and it would be a miracle if she got any rest at all between now and Friday.

* * *

Lexa arrived at Clarke's apartment at the same time the food did. Knowing it had already been paid for, Lexa took the bag from the delivery driver who was all too happy to get out of there, especially when Lexa fished a few singles from her wallet to hand to him. She rarely carried much cash anymore – did anyone? – but with so many delivery services doing sketchy things when it came to tips made through apps, she tried to keep a few dollars on hand for situations like this.

Clarke opened the door before she knocked, wrapped in a worn flannel with slippers on her feet, and blinked when she saw Lexa standing there, bag in hand. "Oh," she said. "I just got a notification that the driver was here, and—"

"I got it," Lexa said. 

"Oh," Clarke said again. "Thank you. Um. Come in." She stepped aside and let Lexa through the door. 

There wasn't enough room to keep six feet between them, and Lexa didn't know if she was supposed to try. She was wearing a mask, and so was Clarke, but they would obviously have to take them off to eat. Would Clarke expect her to put it back on afterward? Should she? Lexa had gone home after her shift to take a shower and scrub the day and its germs – any that had managed to finagle their way through gloves and gowns and masks and shields – off, but would that be enough for Clarke to consider her safe?

"It's okay," Clarke said, taking her mask off. "I mean... unless you're not comfortable with it." She started to put it back on, but Lexa shook her head.

"No," she said. "It's your house. I'm not going to make you wear a mask in your own house. But if you want me to keep mine on—"

"I don't," Clarke said. "I mean, I don't mind if you don't. I trust you're taking every precaution you can and—" She shrugged. "It would just be kind of nice to actually see another human being's face for once."

Lexa smiled, slipping the loops of her mask from around her ears and letting it drop so Clarke could see her. She tucked it into her pocket and offered Clarke the bag of food. 

"Plates or no plates?" Clarke asked, then shook her head. "Sorry, stupid question, given the circumstances. Breathing the same air is one thing, but sharing the same food containers..." She wrinkled her nose. 

"Yeah," Lexa agreed, trying not to think about how cute it was, and how much she wanted to take a step closer, then another until she was in Clarke's personal bubble, just to be near her. Just to be near _anyone_ for reasons other than shoving her hands in their mouth, but especially to be near Clarke. 

Who she'd had a crush on from the first time Clarke walked into her office and sat in her chair. Who she'd accidentally (and then not-so-accidentally) flirted with on more than one occasion, just to see what would happen, just to see if there was even the tiniest, remotest chance... But Clarke had been oblivious, and the ethical part of Lexa's brain had kicked in and she'd vowed she would keep things perfectly polite and professional from now on.

Then she'd seen Clarke in the supermarket, where they weren't dentist and patient, and Lexa discovered that the months of isolation and existential dread had eroded her walls (and her sense of self-preservation, and her filters) more than she'd realized. She'd asked for Clarke's number before she could talk herself out of it, and Clarke had given it to her, which Lexa had taken as an invitation, if not an expression of mutual interest, and texted her. 

Now she was here, and they were about to sit down and watch a movie – or several movies – that had helped shape young Lexa into who she was today. (Both of Hermione's parents were dentists, after all. Sure, they never actually appeared on screen or on the page, but it was still there.) It felt like sharing a piece of herself with Clarke, and Lexa only hoped she would like them, even if they were now forever tainted by the abhorrent beliefs of their creator. 

They settled down on opposite sides of the couch with their plates and Lexa retrieved the first movie from her bag, handing it to Clarke to put in the player. Clarke dimmed the lights for a proper movie theater ambience, and Lexa felt tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying loosen and melt away as the tinkling strains of the opening theme floated through the air. 

Her food was barely lukewarm by the time she finished it because she kept getting distracted by the images on the screen, even though she had seen it dozens of times before, and also by sneaking peeks at Clarke's face to try to gauge what she was thinking and feeling. Was she loving it? Was she hating it? Would she decide after one that she didn't need to see any more? If she did, would they choose something else to watch, or would that be Lexa's cue to leave?

Clarke caught her looking and flashed her a smile. She set her plate on the coffee table and reached for a blanket folded neatly on the back of the couch, unfurling it and draping it over her legs, which she'd tucked up underneath herself. She lifted one end, offering it to Lexa, and Lexa shifted closer to accept, her heart beating double-time as the heat radiating from Clarke's skin permeated her own. 

By the time the movie ended, their bodies pressed against each other in more than one place, and Lexa had had to clamp her hands between her knees to resist the urge to reach for Clarke's. She didn't want to push things, to try to go too far, too fast, especially given the extraordinary circumstances surrounding any kind of physical contact these days. 

"So?" she asked. 

Clarke smiled. "It's pretty magical," she admitted, then laughed. "I would say no pun intended, but..." 

Lexa laughed too, her stomach doing a little flip. They talked a little more about the movie, Clarke positing theories about what she thought was going to happen next, and Lexa making a motion like she was zipping her lips. (How Clarke didn't know the full plot of the series, even without having read the source material, Lexa had no idea. She assumed _everyone_ knew by now, just from existing in the world alongside it.) 

Clarke shifted, turning toward Lexa, teasing her about how much of a nerd she was when she started explaining some of the changes they'd made between the first book and its movie counterpart (although there were far fewer changes than in later movies). She leaned closer and closer, and Lexa prayed she wouldn't have a heart attack before she got a chance to...

But as soon as Lexa leaned in toward her, to close what little space remained between them, Clarke backed off, shoving the blanket off her legs. "I'll be right back," she said, nearly tripping over her own feet in her rush to get away. Lexa heard her retreat down the hall and heard a door close, and told herself it was okay, it wasn't anything personal, Clarke had just needed to use the bathroom.

Maybe she hadn't even realized Lexa had been moving in for a kiss. Maybe Lexa had read the situation wrong. She gathered the plates and carried them into the kitchen and, when Clarke still hadn't returned, quickly washing them and setting them in the drainer to dry. 

"You didn't have to do that," Clarke said, leaning her hip against the counter. "I would have—"

"I know," Lexa said with a shrug. "Just figured I would help out. Are you ready to start the second movie, or...?" Clarke seemed to like the first one well enough to keep going, but she didn't want to assume. Maybe Clarke had had a long day and was tired. It wasn't late yet – not by ordinary standards – but these days time had almost no meaning, and maybe Clarke had been up late the night before and—

"Sure," Clarke said, pushing away from the counter and taking a step that brought her close – dangerously close – to Lexa. 

Lexa thought about stepping back, but there wasn't really anywhere for her to go. She thought she caught a faint whiff of mint, and almost laughed. Had Clarke gone to brush her teeth? Maybe she always did after meals, or maybe just after meals that involved a lot of onion and garlic, or—

Or maybe Lexa hadn't read things wrong after all. Maybe Clarke _had_ known she was going in for a kiss and hadn't wanted to send her running with garlic sauce breath (even though Lexa had been eating the same things) and maybe this was an invitation.

Lexa swallowed and edged half a step closer. Clarke didn't move. Not toward her, but not away, either, and Lexa had a split-second to make a decision and she was so tired of being alone, of being lonely, and Clarke was cute and smart and funny and sarcastic and nerdy and everything Lexa looked for and loved in a girl... and then some. She was also one of Lexa's patients which was, okay, not great, but there were other dentists in the practice she could transfer Clarke to if anything came of it, which would negate any potential conflicts of interest, and the fact that she was here in the first place hinted that it didn't bother Clarke, so she leaned in again...

... and found herself staring into Clarke's teeth as she stretched her mouth wide in a grin that would have made Wallace and Gromit proud. She rocked back a step, staring at Clarke like she'd lost her mind. "Are you... okay?"

Clarke closed her mouth. "What? No. I mean, yes, I'm fine. I thought maybe I had something stuck in my teeth or something?"

"I—" Lexa's jaw, and then her neck, twitched as she tried – and failed – to process whatever the hell was happening. "I wasn't looking at your teeth," she said. 

The corner of Clarke's mouth quirked up, and that was a smile Lexa could get used to. "Sorry," she said. "You just leaned in like you wanted to make sure I didn't have any broccoli stuck between my teeth or something. But I flossed, I promise." 

"And I'm very proud of you for that," Lexa said, letting out a soft chuckle. "But I left my dentist hat – well, coat – at the office. I don't bring my obsession with oral hygiene on dates with me." 

She felt heat creep into her cheeks as she realized that in this context, the word 'oral' could be taken in a wildly different direction, and—

" _Dates?_ " Clarke squeaked, and maybe Lexa should have been glad that was what she got stuck on, but no. 

Because Clarke sounded confused. Bewildered. Like the thought hadn't even occurred to her. Like it was the last word she would ever associate with having dinner and watching movies... or with Lexa. 

Lexa waved her hand dismissively. "You know what I mean," she said, forcing a smile. "Come on. The..." she closed her eyes for just a second longer than a standard blink, cursing J.K. Rowling and herself, "Chamber of Secrets awaits." 

Clarke led her into the living room and started the second movie. Lexa curled into the corner of the couch, pretending she didn't see when Clarke silently offered her half of the blanket again. Maybe Clarke could forget what had just happened – or not happened – but Lexa couldn't. She told herself it was silly to feel like her heart was splintering when she'd technically never said it was a date. She'd just assumed...

 _And we all know what happens when you do that,_ she told herself. 

She told herself to give it a few minutes, to just breathe and let it go, and then another few minutes, and then a few more after that, but the feeling of rejection didn't abate no matter how much she told herself she had no right to feel it, and the loneliness of sitting next to someone who looked at her and saw a dentist first and a person she might be interested in kissing nowhere was crushing, and finally she couldn't take it anymore. 

"Hey," she said softly, pushing herself up off the couch. "I'm gonna go."

* * *

"What?" Clarke fumbled for the remote and paused the movie. "We've barely started." She motioned toward the screen, and the stack of DVD cases for the six movies that came after it. 

"You can borrow them," Lexa said. "Return them at your next appointment." She smiled, but there was something awkward and brittle about it, and then it disappeared completely as she put her mask back on. 

"I thought—" Clarke stopped. It didn't matter what she thought. Just because she was starved for human contact didn't mean everyone was. Lexa had been dealing with people all day and had probably reached her limit and Clarke couldn't really blame her for that. But... 

"Maybe you could come back tomorrow?" she suggested. "Or... another day?"

"I've seen them already," Lexa said. "It's okay. You can watch them without me."

 _I don't want to,_ Clarke thought. _You're the one who wanted me to see them in the first place. Why—_

But before she could ask – before she could even untangle herself from the damned blanket she'd cocooned herself in after Lexa turned down her offer to share – the door had already clicked shut behind Lexa as she practically sprinted out the door. 

"She didn't even say goodbye," Clarke told Raven later, when she found herself lying awake, unable to shake the feeling that she had somehow fucked things up with Lexa even though she had no idea what she'd done. 

"You. Are. An. Idiot." Raven had never been one to mince words, and Clarke ought to be used to it by now, but she already felt raw and she didn't need Raven to flay her further. "Like... are you seriously for real right now? Your hot as hell dentist – and don't think I don't remember you going on a 20-minute rant about how you didn't think it was possible for dentists to be hot until Dr. Woods walked in, and how you were just a teeny bit disappointed when you didn't have any cavities so there was no reason for you to see her again for six months, because I remember _ev-ery-thing_ \- comes over to your house for dinner and a movie and when she leans in to lay one on you, you ask her to check your teeth for wayward florets?!" 

"Lay one—" Clarke shook her head, hard, even though Raven couldn't see it. "You think she was trying to _kiss_ me?" 

"No, bitch," Raven said. "I don't _think_ she was trying to kiss you. I _know_ she was trying to kiss you. You just told me she said it was a date!" 

"She said she didn't bring her obsession with oral hygiene on dates," Clarke corrected. 

"Implying she was on one! At that precise moment! With you!" Raven exploded. 

"Except I asked and she said no," Clarke said. 

"Or you freaked out and she backpedaled to try to keep at least a shred of dignity," Raven said. "One or the other, but you know who's right here. And if you don't, I'll tell you. It's me. It's always me."

"She wasn't—" But when Clarke replayed the scene in her head, when she rewound all the way back to the beginning of the night, and farther still to their encounter at the grocery store and their texts and... "Shit." 

"You can say that again."

"Shit," Clarke repeated. 

"You—" Clarke could practically hear Raven shaking her head and imagined her pinching the bridge of her nose like Clarke had given her a sudden migraine. Clarke heard her let out a slow breath, probably counting backward from ten, before she said, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

After hanging up with Raven Clarke stared at her phone. She thought about texting Lexa and apologizing for being an idiot, seeing if maybe she wanted to come back and finish the movie... and the kiss. Only... should she kiss Lexa? Or let Lexa kiss her? She was pretty sure that it would cross a line that wasn't supposed to be crossed between doctors (or in this case dentists) and patients, but like Lexa said, she'd left her lab coat in the office, so _technically_ she wasn't Clarke's dentist at the moment. It would be a different situation if Lexa tried to kiss Clarke while she was in her chair (also weird and kinky in a way that Clarke definitely wasn't into) but here in Clarke's apartment they were just two women, two consenting adults, and she had fucked it up. 

_So what else is new?_ , she thought. But then, a second later, she thought, _Fuck that._

What was new was that she wanted to fix it. Most of the time when something was over, it was over. This... she wouldn't allow this to be over, because it hadn't even really begun. But a simple text message wasn't going to do it. It was too easy to misinterpret... or ignore. 

She had to think of something better. 

And she had a good idea where to start.

* * *

"There's... something at the door for you?" 

Lexa looked up from scrubbing her hands for the three hundredth (or at least it felt that way) time that day at the sound of her dental assistant's incredibly confused voice. 

"I don't have any more patients today," Lexa said. "Unless someone booked an emergency appointment?" She groaned inwardly at the thought. It had been the longest week ever, and all she wanted was to go home and wash the day down the drain. Maybe she would light some candles, take a nice relaxing bath... although her tub was smaller than average and she had to choose between having her shoulders or her knees submerged – both at once wasn't an option. So maybe not a bath. But definitely candles. And ice cream. Except she'd run out of ice cream after a weekend of wallowing in self-pity, and now the grocery store was even more of a minefield because she couldn't think about it without thinking about Clarke and how much of an ass Lexa had made of herself.

She'd thought about texting, apologizing for misreading the situation. She'd even thought about taking Clarke up on her invitation to come back on Saturday and finish the movie marathon. But she knew it would be weird and awkward, and she needed a little more time to get her head into the friend zone before facing her again. So she'd let one day pass, then two, until it had been an entire week and she'd convinced herself that if Clarke had any interest in her on any level, she would reach out. The fact that she hadn't was proof it wasn't meant to be. 

"What?" she asked, realizing her assistant had said something – probably answered her question – and she hadn't heard a word of it. 

"I said no, no appointments. It's not a person. It's..." She shook her head. "Just come look." 

Lexa followed her to the lobby and peered through the glass of the front door. Sitting directly in front of it was a stuffed owl with an envelope propped against its fuzzy tummy. On the front of the envelope it said, in emerald green calligraphy:

_Dr L. Woods_  
_DC Dental_  
_100 Polis Ave_  
_Washington DC_  
_USA_

Lexa pressed her lips together, not sure if she was fighting a smile or tears. She twisted the lock that kept people from just walking in and ducked out to pick up the plush bird and its correspondence before locking herself back in. She could feel her assistant's eyes on her, waiting for her to open the letter and read it. After a second's hesitation, she gave in and did it, because there was no way she wasn't going to get bombarded with questions about it if she tried to shut herself in one of the exam rooms to read it in private.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHRAFT AND WIZARDRY**_

_Dear Dr Woods,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins at 6 pm. We await your e-owl no later than 5:59 pm._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Clarke Griffin_  
_Deputy Headmistress_

Lexa flipped to the second sheet.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**_

_Supplies Needed:_

_You_

_Just you_

_Please_

Lexa read the letter, then read it again, then a third time, before tucking it back into the envelope, and the envelope into her pocket. Before her assistant could say anything, she said, "If I don't have any more appointments, I'm going to head out for the day. I'll see you tomorrow." She quickly stripped off the PPE that stayed in the office, switching it out for a cloth mask, and was out the door and in her car in record time. 

She went home first, because showering was non-negotiable before interacting with anyone. She then spent a somewhat ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear... before realizing she was an idiot, and obviously the only option was the Ravenclaw hoodie she'd bought on her trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter (where she would never go again, damn it, because fuck JKR). It wasn't sexy, but she thought – hoped – Clarke would appreciate the sentiment, and her willingness to let whatever Clarke was planning play out. 

She even took the time to put on a little make-up, then wondered if it would look like she was trying too hard, then wondered if she was getting her hopes up for nothing. But Clarke wouldn't be doing all of whatever she was doing because she wanted to be friends... would she? Or would she? Lexa stared at herself in the mirror, wondering if she was setting herself up for heartbreak all over again. In the end, she decided it was a chance she would have to take. 

Lexa looked herself over one last time, then slipped on a mask (which kind of defeated the purpose of her tinted lip gloss, didn't it?) and went back out to her car. She snapped her seat belt into place, then had to unbuckle it to retrieve her phone from her pocket to send Clarke a text.

 _Not a text. An e-owl,_ she reminded herself, unable to fight back a smile. Her heart thumped against her breastbone as she typed. 

**Lexa:** Headed to King's Cross now. 🚂

She didn't wait for a response, just tucked her phone away again and drove to Clarke's. 

When she got to Clarke's building, there was a big sign on the building door that said Platform 9 ¾. Lexa pushed the button for Clarke's apartment and a few seconds later the door buzzed to let her in. There were pictures of boats and carriages affixed to the walls, and one of a silhouette of a castle off in the distance, and she couldn't help wondering what Clarke's neighbors would make of all this. Maybe they would think it was something a parent had done for one of their kids as a surprise for a special occasion. Lexa hoped if there were any kids in the building, they would get to see and appreciate it before Clarke took it all down. 

On Clarke's door there was a giant Hogwarts crest, and before Lexa could lift her hand to knock it swung open. Lexa took a step inside and blinked at the change in lighting. The apartment was dim but not dark, and it took her a moment to realize where the light was coming from. Above her, suspended from the ceiling, were dozens of candles. Not real ones, but those little battery-operated tea lights, stuck into rolled up paper to make them look more like tapers, floating in the air like she'd just entered the Great Hall. 

"Clarke?" she called, slipping off her shoes and tucking them onto the mat placed by the door for that purpose, then padding farther into the apartment. 

A few steps in she was confronted by an oversized cup from which spouted blue flames (that appeared to actually be varying shades of blue cellophane, and some kind of light in the bottom of the cup to make them glow). At its base was a little card with the instructions: _Pull three slips from the Goblet of Fire._

Lexa hesitated for a second before reaching her hand inside, as if the faux flames could actually harm her. She extricated a slip of paper and read it: 'I'm sorry I'm an idiot.' The next one said: 'I didn't realize it was a date.' And the third: 'I hope I haven't completely ruined things.' 

Lexa bit her lip, not sure if she was trying to keep from smiling or crying. No one had ever done anything like this for her, ever, and she knew she was partly to blame for not making it explicitly clear that she was interested in Clarke as potentially more than a friend (though she hated that expression, because her friends were _everything_ to her) and for running away instead of trying to sort things out that night. 

"Do you think we could start over?"

Lexa's head whipped around so fast at the sound of Clarke's voice she nearly gave herself whiplash. Clarke had a witch hat perched on her head and a Gryffindor scarf wound around her neck. In her hand she clutched a wand that wasn't one of the cheap plastic ones, or even one of the overpriced rubber replicas from the parks. 

"Alivan's?" she asked. 

Clarke bit her lip and nodded. "I'm sorry," she said. "Seriously. I thought—" She shook her head. "I don't know what I thought. Maybe I thought it was too good to be true. I can't – I don't know how to let myself have nice things. And you're my dentist! Doesn't that make this... off-limits?"

Lexa grimaced. "Kind of," she said. "But I'd rather have you as a friend or—" She stopped herself before she could overstep again. "Or whatever than a patient. There are other doctors in the practice that are as good or better than me and—"

Clarke took a step closer. "So... we can start over?" 

Lexa pressed her lips together, fighting a smile even though Clarke couldn't see it because she was still wearing her mask. "With the movies? I kind of assumed you'd already watched them, considering..." She gestured to indicate the décor. 

Clarke shook her head. "I couldn't bring myself to watch them without you. I looked up some screenshots, but..." She shrugged.

Lexa looked around again, a frown creasing her brow. "Then how...?"

"I read the books," Clarke said. 

"All of them?" Lexa asked. Because the candles and things she could have gotten from the first movie, but the Goblet of Fire... Clarke shrugged, nodded. "In a _week_?!"

"... end," Clarke said. "I read them last weekend, and I've been working on this all week, and—"

Lexa kissed her. She almost forgot she was wearing a mask – it had practically become a part of her, and the cloth one was a lot more comfortable and breathable than what she had to wear for work – but remembered at the last moment and pulled it aside to press her lips against Clarke's. 

She felt Clarke suck in a breath through her nose, then her lips parted, just a fraction, against hers, and her arms wrapped around Lexa's neck, pulling their bodies together. When Clarke settled back onto her heels, her finger still tangled in Lexa's hair, she was smiling. 

"I can't believe you did all this," Lexa said, glancing around again before she was drawn back to Clarke. 

Clarke bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the pink flesh and turning it white. Lexa kissed her again to free it, soothing the bite with the tip of her tongue. Clarke let out a stuttering sigh, tucking her face into the curve of Lexa's neck when she drew back from the kiss. "There's more," Clarke mumbled against her throat. 

"There's _more_?" 

Clarke lifted her head and flashed Lexa a sheepish smile. "Come on," she said, drawing her into the living room, where she'd set up a table decked out in all four house colors. It was covered by plate after plate of food, all labeled with careful calligraphy. Cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts... just about everything Lexa could think of being mentioned in the books except steak and kidney pie (and she couldn't say she minded its absence). "Can I interest you in some butterbeer?" she asked. "Or pumpkin juice? Which is just apple cider with pumpkin pie spice, but shhh." She pressed a finger to her lips. 

"I'll take the lot," Lexa said. "Except..." She gestured to the bowl of Bertie Bott's. "I am not taking any chances." 

Clarke grinned. "They're safe," she said. "I did get Bertie Bott's, but then I accidentally ate one of the rotten egg flavored ones and spent a solid half hour dry heaving, so I threw them out. Those are just regular old Jelly Bellies." She slid one arm around Lexa's waist. "The worst you have to watch out for is buttered popcorn And if you say you like them, this whole thing is off, so..." She raised her eyebrows.

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "I love popcorn, but not in jellybean form." 

"Good," Clarke said. "Then let's load up the trolley, because we've got some movies to watch."


End file.
